


Don't Sign the Contract

by hypereuni



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Yakuza, Comedy, Dark, F/M, Genderbending, Inspired by Mahou Shoujo Ore, M/M, Male Marinette - Freeform, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Spandex, beware of contracts, different take on superheroes, love solves everything
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-27
Updated: 2018-05-23
Packaged: 2019-04-13 13:57:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 3,700
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14113833
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hypereuni/pseuds/hypereuni
Summary: When Marinette agreed to become a magical girl, she wasn’t expecting the power of love to transform her into a guy. The spandex really didn’t do anything to help the situation, because it didn’t hide anything.Crack, Gender-bend AU. There may or may not be yakuza involved.





	1. Miraculous & Co.

 AN: This might be a slightly darker take on ML but I really just want to write crack, so it'll be very lighthearted most of the time. This universe is loosely inspired by the manga and new anime, Mahou Shoujo Ore, which is just hilariously **great**. 

* * *

In the distant past, man turned against man during periods of turmoil and chaos. Crime rates soared; trust and empathy became precious things that were found in too few places. But warfare and crime were now fast becoming relics of the past, thanks to the efforts of Miraculous & Co, a small company based in Japan. 

_We will give you saviors_ , Miraculous promised skeptical countries. _Saviors who will make the world a better place_ , and they gave the world the first magical girls. 

Of course, such promises never came without hefty prices. Miraculous wasn’t a charitable organization, after all. No charity had the infrastructure that Miraculous had to support the activities of magical girl soldiers or the vast resources needed to pay for the staggering damage the girls left in their wake. 

But government agencies and activists could not find a single thing to incriminate Miraculous, anything that would implicate them in unsavory activities. Underneath the sparkles and the frills and the facade of goodwill, they found…nothing. As if it were a blank slate.

But in these times of distrust and uncertainty, _nothing_ always meant _something_ , and one enterprising journalist managed to discover something…before he mysteriously disappeared one day and local police found his body bobbing facedown in the Arakawa River a week later. 

On the corpse’s left foot, the pathologist found a few hastily scribbled words written in blue ink. 

“Mira.& Co,” the dead man had written. “893.”

 

893.

 

In Japanese, pronounced as _ya-ku-sa_. 

 

**Yakuza.**


	2. Chapter 2

Okay.

Let’s backtrack a few hours and rewind the tape. Skip the afternoon’s physics discussion, past lunch hour— _no, inner Marinette, we’re not stopping at this frame because we’ve already exceeded the quota for Shamelessly Ogling Adrien Agreste so just push the goddamn button_ —  
 ****

Oh, stop here.

Press play.

_We can look at Adrien later._

* * *

**_Paris_ , France.**

**_In front of Tom & Sabine Boulangerie Patisserie, 21st Arrondissement. 7:57am._**

Marinette wasn’t a morning person on any day of the week, but Mondays were the worst. The traffic in front of her house didn’t help—jaywalking was out of the question. And of course, today there just _had_ to be that one motorist who cut through traffic because he was hellbent on reaching his destination on time.

So what if he nearly ran over a few tourists along the way?

Marinette grabbed the tourist by the collar of his red Hawaiian shirt and yanked him out of the way of the speeding bike.

“ _SALAUD_!” She yelled after the bastard before turning her attention to the tourist she had saved. “Are you quite all right?” She knew this man by face; he had frequently stopped by her parents’ bakery this past week and seemed to really like the chocolate chip cookies her father made.

“Ah, thank you, kind miss,” the man groaned, thankfully in French, holding a hand to his balding head. He sat up and blinked blearily at her through his tinted glasses.

His eyes widened.

He muttered something to himself in Mandarin which Marinette didn’t catch— she knew only a handful of basic phrases and words, but she was pretty sure that the words he used didn’t include the words _nǐ hǎo_ , _zàijiàn_ , or the Chinese word for bread ( _miànbāo_ ).

The man opened his mouth. She braced herself for a torrent of incomprehensible Mandarin but he said something as equally indecipherable in French. 

“Do you want to be a magical girl?” The man asked unexpectedly.

“Excuse me?” Marinette asked, startled by the abrupt question.

“A magical girl,” the man clarified, wincing as he shifted to get a better look at her. “We have a position available. It’s a 9 to 5 job, but the hours are flexible. You get basic health insurance but we can’t guarantee overtime pay. We’ll supply the basic equipment and uniform. Oh, and dry cleaning’s on us.”

The poor man was probably a little confused from the near-accident, but he seemed oddly coherent for a person in shock. 

“I think,” Marinette said cautiously, looking up and down at the man, “that you might have a concussion.” She looked around and spotted a _gendarme_ walking toward them. “I’ll go and call the policeman over, so stay here, okay?” She stood up to leave before the man’s arm shot out and grabbed her ankle. 

“I’m completely fine!” the man protested. “You’re the best candidate for the job that I’ve seen so far. I’ve been following you around for the past two days, and I can tell that you’re passionate and charismatic—”

Marinette gaped at him. “You _stalked_ me?”

“—unfortunately, you’re pigheaded at times and hopeless when it comes to boys—”

“… _WHAT?_ ”

“—but not to worry! You still meet the basic requirements of any self-respecting magical girl,” the man continued. He looked at her. “I can help you become the greatest hero this country has ever seen.” His tinted glasses flashed in the sunlight. “All you have to do is sign a contract with me.”

“No thanks,” Marinette said, finally deciding that she had _enough_. She glanced at her watch and gasped for dramatic effect. “Oh _dear_ , look at the _time_! Madame Mendelssohn is going to _kill_ me,” and with that, Marinette shook off the man’s hand and grabbed her bags before sprinting down the cobblestoned street. 


	3. Chapter 3

Marinette tried her hardest to walk to school with her friends and stay in sight of the River Seine (it wasn’t hard—school was practically a block away from home) when commuting between school and the bakery. 

A few days later, however, she somehow found herself cornered in the alleyway behind her house by the lunatic she had saved from the tires of a speeding motorcycle. 

Now that it was noon and she was properly caffeinated, she noticed things that she failed to see before. Things like the atrocious white flower pattern on his red shirt or the gold-plated chain with a matching gold dragon pendant hanging on his scrawny neck and _merde_ , was that a tattoo of a turtle on his hand?

Maybe it wasn’t the best time to be distracted, but Marinette had to admit that the design was pretty bomb. 

 

She crashed from her caffeine high as soon as she saw that he was missing a part of his left pinkie. 

Great. Her stalker was a middle-aged man involved in some kind of shady business. He wasn’t yakuza, was he?

 

…Right?

“Why is the weather so hot here? Screw the rules, I’m taking off my shirt,” the man muttered before beginning the laborious task of unbuttoning his gaudy red shirt. He took off the shirt, revealing a very grey and threadbare wife beater underneath. There were two small holes underneath the right armpit and a big one near the neck. He hunched over to tie the sleeves around his waist and Marinette got an eyeful of green and red ink spanning his back and running down his arms. 

 

Well, _shit._

 

At least now she definitely knew the kind of person she was dealing with. 

“Nice tats,” Marinette blurted out. It was hard not to talk when she was hopped up on too many pumps of caramel syrup to count. The man just gave her an exasperated look and stood up.

“So, Mademoiselle Dupain-Cheng,” he said. He rolled his neck around, cracking it audibly. “I believe we have some unfinished business.”

“...Wait wait _**w**_ ** _ait_**. Slow down.” Marinette said, backing slowly from the man. “First of all, who are you? Why are you stalking me? What do you even want? I never agreed to do anything! Don't tell me that you want to cut me open and sell my organs on the black market oh god please no I haven't even confessed to Adrien yet--”

The man took a step towards her.

Marinette whimpered and pressed her back against the brick wall.

The man took another step forward—and mercifully stopped. 

He bowed. “Apologies for the scare, Mademoiselle,” he said.“My name is Fukurokuju, and I represent the company Miraculous—“

“Fu _what_?”

“--Fukuro—just call me Master Fu,” the man sighed after seeing the incomprehension on her face. “Now, as I told you before you decided to run away—“

“With good reason,” Marinette grumbled. “I had a psycho with a magical girl fetish grabbing at my legs—“

“WOULD YOU STOP INTERRUPTING FOR ONCE?” Master Fu thundered. Marinette subsided. “Thank you. Now, I would like to re-extend my offer to you to be the next magical girl in France. How about it?”

“Why France? There should be plenty in Japan and America,” Marinette pointed out reasonably.

Master Fu waved his hand dismissively. “We’ve already got the market covered in Japan and we’re entering negotiations with the Powerpuff Girls. Sabrina the Teenage Witch is still putting up a bit of a fuss, but my coworker in America is _very_ good at what he does. She’ll see reason, sooner or later.” 

He flashed a reptilian grin. 

Marinette gulped.

“Unfortunately, we don’t have a foot in the magical girl market in Europe,” the man continued. “Which is where you come into the picture.” 

He pointed at her. 

 

“We want **you** to be the next magical girl of Europe so that we can achieve world domin—I mean, peace.”

 

He snapped his fingers and a red scroll popped into existence and unfurled itself midair. The man then took a pen from his shirt pocket and tossed it to Marinette, who fumbled with it like a hot potato. 

“This is a nondisclosure agreement between you and the company, and please sign here, here, and here,” the man said, indicating the crosses at the very bottom of the scroll. “Just so you know, Miraculous will not be held accountable for any accidents that may happen, including sudden illness, depression, suicidal thoughts and death—“

“DEATH?” Marinette shrieked. Master Fu just gave her a nonplussed look.  

“Of course death,” he replied. “You probably won’t, though. Magical girls get an automatic 30% boost in good luck when they’re suited up, so don’t worry your pretty little head. I suggest you think about my offer tonight. I’ll give you until tomorrow at 6pm to decide and talk to your parents.” 

“Would a ‘no’ right now suffice?” Marinette asked. Master Fu immediately kicked the metal garbage can, which set off a cacophony of annoyed yowls from within. 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t hear that,” he said mildly, ignoring the annoyed look that Marinette shot at him. “Have a good day, Marinette Dupain-Cheng. I look forward to hearing your answer tomorrow.”

He clicked his heels smartly three times and turned counterclockwise once before vanishing in a puff of sparkly pink dust that smelled oddly like artificial watermelon and rancid body odor. 

Marinette just gawked at the sparkles settling on top of the garbage bins. For a split second, she wondered how they would taste like. Probably like a teenage girl’s dream, she decided: something Shirley Temple-esque drink with extra maraschino cherries and cherry-flavored whipped cream on top. She shuddered. 

 

“Wait!” Marinette realized belatedly. “We never decided on where to meet!”

Of course, no one responded.


	4. Chapter 4

Marinette was never very lucky, but things quickly went downhill the morning right after her second encounter with Master Fu.

She slumped into the seat next to her best friend, muddy and wet and miserable.

“Today is officially the worst day of my life," Marinette moaned, thunking her forehead against the desk. She closed her eyes and desperately tried to scrub the last ten minutes from her memory. Alya just gave her a comforting pat on the shoulder. 

“Don’t worry," Alya said. "It's not like Adrien hasn't seen you royally embarrass yourself in front of him before." She snickered. Marinette cracked open one eye and glowered at her deskmate.

"Some great friend you are," Marinette grumbled.

"You're welcome," Alya said cheerfully. Marinette buried her face in her arms. “What did I doooooo?” she wailed, voice slightly muffled by her sleeves. “What if Adrien hates me?”

“He’ll be fine. Besides, it’s not really your fault. Right, Nino?"

“Hmm?” Nino said, turning around to face the two behind him. He took out an earbud and looked at them with a confused expression. “What?” Alya rolled her eyes and kicked him under the desk. “OW, Alya!” Nino yelped in surprise. “What the hell was that for, woman?” Alya waggled her eyebrows and mouthed a few words. “…Oh, I get you. Don’t worry about it, Marinette. Adrien’ll be fine.” Nino shot one last glare at Alya, who just gave him a cheeky grin, before turning around to face the chalkboard. He plugged the earbud back in and continued to bob his head up and down.

“Alya,” Marinette said glumly. “I just put Adrien in the nurse’s office.”

“Well,” Alya said. “At least it was your purse and not your schoolbag. It’s just a scratch on his arm. Besides, shouldn’t you feel more sorry towards Chloe, since she’s the one who actually got hit on the head by six kilograms of textbooks and muddy fabric?”

“Nope,” Marinette muttered. “She’s the one who tried to trip me in the first place. It’s karma.” Alya just gave her an exasperated look. 

“…I’ll apologize after they both come back from the nurse’s office,” Marinette grumbled. “But I still think she deserves it.”

“Well, I tried,” Alya muttered, obviously giving up on Marinette ever becoming friends with Chloe Bourgeois. “Anyway, look on the bright side! It’s not like things can get any worse than this.” 

There was a distant tinkle of shattering glass. A few moments later, a guttural roar resounded through the hallways.

“AKUMA!!” Someone shrieked from the hallway. It sounded like Chloe. 

“…Did someone say something?” Nino asked, pulling both earbuds out of his ears. Marinette just looked at Alya with dead eyes. 

“You were saying?” she asked. Alya sighed. Chloe screamed again, and Madame Mendeleiev rushed out to open the door. Chloe Bourgeois stumbled into the room, sunglasses askew and yellow cardigan dusty with crumbled brick, pulling Adrien Agreste along with her. Marinette immediately stood up from her seat when she saw Adrien.

“Adrien! I’m so so so sorry for this morning and oh god did you get a scar,” Marinette stuttered. “I-I hope you’re okay and oh gosh I am so sorry—“ Adrien smiled and opened his perfect mouth to say something before a gargantuan purple arm snaked around his waist and pulled him back from the safety of the classroom.

“MY STAR PUPIL!” Madame Mendeleiev cried out. 

“GODDAMNIT!” Alya yelled in frustration. 


	5. Chapter 5

Normalcy, Marinette decided as she ducked to avoid a piece of plaster wall hurtling toward her, was really too much to hope for.

"My, look at this mess,” someone said mildly. Marinette whirled around to see Master Fu picking his way through the rubble with a look of distaste on his face. 

"This is your fault, isn't it?” She narrowed her eyes at Master Fu. Master Fu put his hands up in a placating gesture. 

"You wound me," he said, looking mildly offended. "Yakuza have honor. Of course I wouldn't do anything to convince you faster.” Marinette just looked at him. 

"Well, I might have given the Akuma a tiny nudge in the right direction," Fu grudgingly conceded. "But you needed a push! Besides, Akuma don't really appear in this Arrondissement. Let me tell you, it was pretty hard to lure it out from the Ninth Arrondissement.”

"So," Marinette growled. "You decided that the best way to grab its attention was to bait it with ADRIEN AGRESTE??!!” 

"It certainly got your attention," Fu returned. "Who is he, anyway? Besides being your crush. The Akuma seemed to recognize him pretty quickly.”

"Oh, nobody, really," Marinette said sarcastically. "Just the son of Gabriel Agreste and the current number one teen male model in France.” Master Fu froze.

"...Oh. That might cause some problems."

"YOU THINK??!!"

“Not to worry!” Master Fu gave her a thumbs up. “All you have to do is sign—“

“…NO.” 

Fu gave her a disbelieving look. 

"You don't want to save Adrien Agreste?" 

Marinette stopped and turned back to look at him.

“I don’t know what you see in me,” she said through gritted teeth, “but I want you to stop telling me to save people. I—I,” she threw her hands up in frustration. “I’m not a savior. I can’t just swoop in and make everything right. That only exists in books and movies. Heroes aren’t real. You can’t expect me to be something that I’m most definitely not.“

“No one is telling you to do anything, girl,” Master Fu said patiently. 

“Yes, you are,” Marinette snarled, pointing her finger at Master Fu accusingly. “Hey. If you’re the one so hung up on saving people, then why don’t _you_ do something about it?”

Fu sighed. For a brief moment, he looked frail and wizened and ancient and very unlike the gangster that had accosted her in an alleyway the day before. 

“I myself cannot act against these fell creatures of the dark, child,” he said. “I chose you, because I thought you had the potential to become great. Because I believed that among all of the young girls I’ve observed, you are the least likely to abuse the power that I can give you.” As if to punctuate his words, a distant scream rendered the air. 

"No one's been able to stop Akuma, not even the police," the man said, looking at her keenly through his tinted glasses. "But I can give you the power to save him. It is up to you to decide if you accept what I offer to you. Despite my deepest wishes, I will yield to your decision should you wish to decline.

“So, Marinette Dupain-Cheng,” Master Fu said, looking at her with his old, old eyes. “Do you accept my offer?"

Another high-pitched shriek echoed through the empty hallways. It didn’t sound like the same person.

"Fine, I'm in,” Marinette said finally. “I’ll do whatever you want me to do, so just—just save Adrien. Please.” Fu’s lips curved up.

 

“Excellent.”


	6. Chapter 6

Master Fu wordlessly floated a sheaf of documents and a pen in front of her. Marinette gaped. 

"Uh, hello? The love of my life is about to die? I don't have time to waste, old man, we have to hurry up and save him!"

"Don't worry, we have plenty of time," Fu said. "I'd give him another..." He glanced at the watch on his wrist. "Twenty minutes. You might want to get started on those papers. Tick tock.” 

Marinette growled and reached for the first sheet. She scrawled her initials on the paper.

Scribble. 

Flip.

"I should have done this from the very beginning," Fu commented as she tore through the stack. "I'm getting soft in my old age."

"Don't. Say. Anything." Marinette gritted out. "You utter bastard." Fu gave a smug little grin. Marinette restrained herself from hurling the papers at him. She reached for the next sheet.

Scribble.

Flip.

When she finished signing the last sheet of paper, Fu crooked his finger and the sheaf of papers leapt into his hands.

"Now," Fu gave her a smile, teeth gleaming while and cold, "the magic begins." The documents in his hands began to glow. There was a brief flash of light so bright that made Marinette's eyes tear up and she had to look away. When she looked back up, Fu held out a pair of polka-dotted earrings that he dropped unceremoniously into her palm.

"Your magical powers will come from these earrings," Fu said. "Hurry up and put those on."

"Hold on, it's not going through," Marinette said distractedly, fiddling with her right ear. The hole in her ear was closing up, and she had completely forgotten about going to the tattoo parlor to get it re-pierced until now. She muttered a string of curses and jabbed the stud earring into her lobe. After a few more unsuccessful attempts, she finally managed to thread the earring through the hole. Her ear was throbbing, but at least the stupid earring was in.

"Uh--"

"Say, "transforme moi.'"

"Transforme moi!" She said, feeling more than slightly ridiculous.

 

Everything exploded into pink. 

 

It took a while for the sparkly pink mist to dissipate, but eventually it cleared enough for Marinette to see Master Fu. 

He seemed a little...different than usual.  He noticed her staring at him and scowled.

"Oi, what are you looking at?"

 

…It was definitely not an improvement.

 

"What are you supposed to be, exactly?" Marinette asked the tiny creature hovering in front of her. Or more specifically, to Fu's head attached to the body of a fairly large spotted beetle.

"I'm obviously your adorable sidekick and mascot." Fu's head returned, looking a little miffed. "Ladybug has to have a ladybug mascot, right?" Marinette just looked doubtfully at him. He didn’t look at all like a ladybug, much less a cute and adorable mascot.

"Ladybug?" She asked instead, tactfully switching gears.

"You. Your superhero name. You didn't think you'd broadcast your real name out there, did you? Not that anyone should recognize you in your current form."

"What? But I don't feel any different from usu--wait." Marinette looked down at herself. 

Then she double-checked just to make sure her eyes were working fine. 

"Oh, _fuck_ me."

"Like the costume? I chose the design myself," Fu said, looking very pleased with himself.

"Oh no no no," Marinette moaned. "What did you _do_?"

"Hey, I'll have you know that it took me two weeks to get the stitching just right. The spandex gives you ease of mobility. Have you ever seen a superhero wearing sweats? We have to maintain standards. Suck it up, girly.”

"No, not that!" Marinette wailed. "The fit is just right and everything but..." Out of fascinated horror and dismay, she can't help but look down at the bulge on her crotch again. The skin-tight costume really didn't hide _anything_.

"I thought you were looking for a magical girl. So why the hell am I a **_guy_**???!!"


End file.
